Hermione Granger and the Year Hidden from Hogwarts
Harry Potter Fanfiction
Chapter 15
A/N: I'm so excited, I can't even begin to describe! Thank you to all of you reading this on AO3 for the lovely reviews. They've encouraged me a lot. We're getting so close to Hermione dipping further into the magical world now. I mean, it's now 1992, so Hermione is less than a year away from starting Hogwarts. Hold on tight to your brooms, people!
January 7th, 1992
"And this will be your room," Ms. Walker said.
Hermione stared at the room, Office 6 was what it used to be called, but someone had replaced the nameplate to read only "Hermione Granger."
"We've had the laboratory chemical spill showers remodeled to now have a private bathroom for you, but I figured you would enjoy having the freedom to just step out of your bedroom and be where all your research is." Ms. Walker widened her arms to include the familiar settings of Laboratory 5.
It'd certainly become a home away from home, but never had Hermione conceived that it'd become her actual home.
And since MI5 was a clandestine intelligence agency, that meant that she had no real address.
When her parents had hugged and kissed her to within an inch of her life in the upstairs lobby, someone must've taken care of collecting her belongings because the two suitcases sat on the drab white comforter of her twin-sized bed.
Ms. Walker continued on, a real-estate agent intent on making the sale. "Dr. Hampton and Charles insisted that you'd enjoy a few bookcases in here, as well as a desk, so if you want a lazy day shut in, you won't have to leave the comforts of your room."
Hermione ran her fingers over the wall. It smelled of fresh paint, but it was dry. From the white blanket, white walls, pale grey linoleum, and oakwood shelving, this room was as plain as plain could get. "Will I have those? Days off?"
"Certainly, Hermione, but if I know you, you'll be spending every moment here taking advantage of the opportunities at your fingertips."
Hermione glanced back at Ms. Walker.
"Tell me I'm wrong."
"You're not wrong," Hermione admitted. It was the only thing that made this ordeal bearable. If she wanted to learn advanced maths, they'd track down a maths professor. If she wanted to polish her Mandarin skills, they'd hire a native language tutor.
At least, that was their pitch.
She'd see how well they followed through in time. She glanced up. "Where will Erk stay?"
Hermione could already feel the pull of needing proximity to refresh the bindings. It'd been nearly two weeks since she'd seen him last. The agency had generously allowed her all of the Christmas holidays to enjoy her time with her parents and prepare for her move.
"Erk? Oh, Subject 202. It will be getting a new permanent housing added in, so any time you need to see it, all you have to do is step outside."
A neat little golden cage. They'd match.
And she deserved it for what she'd done to him.
Whether it was forcing the bond or something about messing up weaving the tether, she wasn't sure, but her connection with Ignis couldn't be further from the heavy-handed slavery she'd forced on the erkling.
It was as if he'd had his entire personality wiped. His only goal was to serve her. Every interaction coated her in a cloying, nauseous ooze of guilt and disgust, but staying away wasn't an option either. He went insane, beating his head bloody if he went too long without being in her presence.
Hermione mustered up a smile. "Brilliant."
"Are you ready for dinner? I can show you to the dining hall."
Hermione shook her head, unable to muster up an appetite. "No. I know where it is. Charles took me there a few times when our research would run late. Besides, I ate dinner with my parents at home." Hermione refused to cry in front of this woman. "I think I'd prefer to just unpack and get settled in.
Ms. Walker nodded. "Okay, I'll leave you to it, but before I forget, here's your schedule based on our preliminary discussions. The red blocks are mandatory while the cream-colored blocks are the choices you settled on before the holidays. We've added professors for all the subjects on retainer. You'll meet with them on your first day tomorrow. If you decide you'd like that to continue or if you'd rather they just be available at your disposal, we can discuss that after your first round of classes. Officially, you're on the hook for a regular school day, so the rest of the time will be yours. You can schedule an appointment with me to request more areas of study, or you can keep your options open. Apart from those red blocks, your education is, finally, in your hands, Hermione. Welcome to MI5."
Hermione glanced over her schedule, a scowl crossing her features, and Ignis, finally sensing their solitude, took that moment to zip over her shoulder and glance up at her in question.
"Oh, don't worry about it," she murmured, giving him a scratch on the hand and feeding him a small dose of flame from the tip of her pinky. "It's just Ms. Walker twisting words around."
She spread her schedule flat on the desk. "Two hours with Trainer Hart now every day—including the weekend—instead of thirty minutes. And, I said that of course I'd maintain my daily two hours of lab time with Charles and Dr. Hampton. And what did she do?"
Ignis' mouth popped open and its tongue lolled out as he cocked his head in the other direction, a whole-body movement including the cute curl of his tail, in a clear response of, "What'd she do?"
"She color-coded that cream, as if it were my choice." Hermione flicked the paper with her fingernail. "School day indeed. From eight to three, apart from an hour lunch block, the schedule is all red."
Hermione sighed when Ignis nuzzled against her forearm, ran in a circle once he gained her full attention, and then set a light layer of bluebell flames dancing across his skin. It sparkled and waved in a showing display to match his smug expression.
She grinned, despite herself and patted him. "Well, she kept her word about the weekends, apart from the two hours with Trainer Hart. I can get through this. In fact, I'm going to excel."
Ignis nodded.
Her heart warmed. "At least I have you, right?"
Ignis cooed and wiggled energetically beneath her praise and baby talk, going up on hind leg to rest his webbed feet on her chin. He tilted his head and nodded, his smile gone in a moment of seriousness.
His message was loud and clear. "We're in this together."
February 16th, 1992
Hermione raised her hand as another cramp wrought havoc on her body. "P-Professor Li?"
Professor Li stopped, turning to her with an imperious brow raised. She never showed much expression.
Hermione took that as permission to continue. "Please, I'm having awful stomach pains, and I—"
"In Mandarin!"
Hermione paused, breathing a bit easier now that the pained had passed. "I'm experiencing bad stomach pain today. I already got in trouble with Trainer Hart during my morning exercises. Can I be excused to the restroom?"
"May I," Professor Li snipped.
"May I please be excused?"
Her professors had been around her for over a month now, so despite her strict nature, Professor Li nodded her head.
Hermione fled from her seat, but Professor Li stopped her near the door.
"Is this your first time bleeding, child?"
Hermione blinked, not sure if she'd understood the words correctly. She glanced down, holding out her arms. "Uh… I'm not…"
Professor Li shook her head, doubled back to her purse, and fished out a small package. "Take this when you go to the bathroom, Miss Granger."
In a daze at her strict teacher breaking her own protocol and speaking in English, Hermione was in the loo before she thought to glance down at what she'd been given.
When she put two and two together, her cheeks burned a furious rose color. She twisted, trying to catch sight of her back in the mirror, and sure enough, there was the answer to her problems today, there in a stark red stain.
Her eyes widened before she burst out in ugly, bawling tears, crumpling to the floor.
She cried harder when another cramp sent her curling in on herself. The pain was so intense that she held her breath for several moments until the waves passed.
Too many emotions to untangle passed through her mind. Humiliation, loneliness, fear… all she knew was none of them were very pleasant.
She got ahold of herself. "Come on, Hermione. It's not doing any good to sit crying in the loo like a baby. You're not a little girl."
She got to her feet, cleaned up as best she before going to a stall to figure out how the tampon worked.
It said regular on the side, so she opened it up, somewhat confused by what she was seeing. Still, she'd sat through a version of the talk in school before. And she was Hermione Jean Granger. She could figure this out.
Twenty minutes later, frustrated, emotional, and hurting, Hermione tossed the tampon at the trash, wadding up toilet paper as a makeshift pad as she collapsed back on the toilet, allowing her tears to overwhelm her once more.
A yearning, so strong it felt like a knife slicing through her chest and robbing her of her breath, hit her.
She wanted her mummy.
Ignis wound down around her form until he settled over her tummy, cradled on the arms she'd wrapped around herself to keep what felt like her intestines from expelling themselves from her body. Ignis lit with a soft glowing blue, and somehow, even though she normally never felt his flames, a soothing warmth sank into her taxed muscles, helping them relax.
She burst into tears again, falling a little bit more in love with the amphibious critter.
An hour later, the door opened and footsteps entered.
"Hermione?" Ms. Walker called. "I know you're in here."
A rustling sounded.
"Professor Li tracked me down and explained why you've missed your morning classes. I would've been here earlier, but I wanted to give you time to work things through yourself."
Hermione closed her eyes, feeling her cheeks heat once more.
"But, seeing as you're still here after over an hour, I decided it was time to take this proverbial bull by the horns, if you will. So, I've got some pads, new trousers, chocolate, and some pain relievers if you are experiencing severe cramps like my discussion with Trainer Hart implied."
Hermione closed her eyes in a slow blink.
Great, now more people knew about her condition.
Could this be any more mortifying?
Ms. Walker rustled the bag once more. "Now, I can stay and walk you through anything—"
"No," Hermione interrupted.
If her mother were here, she'd have gasped at her abruptness, but Hermione didn't offer anything more.
Ms. Walker approached closer, and the bag came into view under the stall door. "I'll leave this here for you, then. You're dismissed from your classes the rest of the day and your courses with Trainer Hart for the next three days, but only because this is your first time. You'll have everything you need for next month, so be prepared to stiff upper lip your way through, Hermione."
Ms. Walker's high-heeled footsteps receded but slowed at the door. "If you need to talk or ask any questions, feel free to reach out, either through Dr. Hampton or Charles—"
"Blimey, no!" Hermione's eyes rounded in horror at the thought of trying to explain to an overly oblivious Dr. Hampton, or even worse, Charles whom she looked up to like an older brother or fun uncle.
Ms. Walker chuckled. "Fair enough. How about this, I'll give you a code word. For today only, if you ask Dr. Hampton or Charles to pass along a message with the word 'red' in it, I'll understand what you're talking about and head straight to your dorm with a false excuse."
Hermione, despite the threats on her family, couldn't help but feel a little touched at Ms. Walker's sensitivity to her feelings.
"That… that sounds wonderful, Ms. Walker," she whispered.
"Okay then. Chin up, Hermione. This is just a bump in the road. You've faced and shaken off a lot worse through the years I've known you."
Somehow, those words were exactly what she needed to hear to dust off her self-pity.
She took care of business, squared herself away, tucked her stained pants inside the bag, and beelined back to her dorm, barely glancing up from feet even when others greeted her in the hall.
Dr. Hampton and Charles were inside the lab, unfortunately, and she couldn't just ignore them. They'd been just as surprised as her when she'd first heard the news about her new living arrangements. In all this, they'd had no hand in Ms. Walker's heavy ruling to displace her from school and home.
"Alright, Mione?" Charles asked, glancing at the clock with a frown.
Hermione slowed. "I'm fine, Charles, and I've asked you not to call me that."
Charles grinned. "And I've asked you to call me Charlie, yet here we are."
She rolled her eyes.
Dr. Hampton blinked at her form as he looked up from the microscope he'd been engrossed with. "Miss Granger? It's half eleven. Shouldn't you be in class?"
Hermione shrugged. "You'll have to ask Ms. Walker. Something about a mental health day. I've been excused from classes the rest of the day."
"Oh!" Dr. Hampton considered my words. "Well, that's brilliant. Since you have this free time, would you like to work with us on this? We've received tissue samples from a laboratory in Africa, and this creature could be the subject for our next big expedition."
Despite herself, a smile curled Hermione's lips. Dr. Hampton was Dr. Hampton, was Dr. Hampton.
"Sure, Dr. Hampton, just let me put these things in my room, and I'll be right back."
"Excellent, I've heard glowing remarks from Dr. Weisberg on your microbiology expertise." He returned to fiddling with his equipment, moving the sliders and adjusting the focus.
Charles glanced from her to the bag in her hand, and she shifted nervously before beating a hasty retreat before he could put one and one together.
Inside her dorm, she put away the supplies in her dresser, tossed her trousers in her laundry basket and went to throw the bag in the trash but found something else inside.
Wondering if Ms. Walker had printed out an info packet of sorts in case she didn't want to talk but still had questions, she reached in.
It was a thick parchment envelope with a red wax seal.
On the front it read:
Hermione Granger
140 Gower Street, Security Service (MI5, SS)
Black Site Headquarters
Sub-basement 3
Laboratory 5
Office Room 6 as Provisional Dorm for Hermione Granger
A/N: If you're upset that Professor Li didn't give Hermione any explanation, I'm blaming that on a cultural difference. From what I've learned, calling out people if they trip or drop something or embarrass themselves is a bit of a no-no. To them, it is courteous not to draw attention to this. That's why Professor Li didn't do much more, to allow Hermione to save face. Also, it paved the way for Hermione to have her big bathroom cry—seemed I couldn't write that away even if this one lacked a troll and two boys by her side.